


Fine Feathers Make Fine Birds

by LunaTheLittleDragon



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Air Conditioning, Anxiety, Aziraphales gets with the times, Clothes, Fluff, Global Warming, How Do I Tag, Idiots in Love, M/M, No beta: we die like men, Other, but not angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 06:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20271520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaTheLittleDragon/pseuds/LunaTheLittleDragon
Summary: It's very warm in a city that is noth built for heat so Aziraphale is forced to go with the times a bit and get himself a new suit. Crowley is not ready.





	Fine Feathers Make Fine Birds

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there y'all long time reader first time writer.
> 
> The wonderful Janne aka [justafewthingstosay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justafewthingstosay/pseuds/Justafewthingstosay) let me watch Good Omens with her when rabbit was still a thing and I am in LOVE. This series singlehandedly cured my post endgame depression. It's just so tender. Also happy endings are nice.
> 
> Anyways here's a fic I wrote because I wanted to know if I could. Tell me what you think!

Crowley and Aziraphale were both quite aware of climate change. The demon had of course taken credit for the combustion engine and resulting rising temperatures while a good portion of the angel's miracles consisted of very rich people having a change of heart and suddenly developing quite a strong interest in the environment.

They knew what was happening. They were informed. But knowing the concepts and statistics and actually _ living _ with 28°C in _ London _were two quite different things. 

Aziraphale liked his clothes. His current outfit was over 100 years old and he had happily worn it almost continually for all of them. The only problem was just that Victorian fashion was, despite its wonderful craftsmanship, simply not made with this kind of temperature in mind.

Crowley had had the presence of mind to miracle an AC into the bookshop after he came to visit one day and saw Aziraphale miserably melting into one of his reading chairs with the outer two layers of his clothes strewn around him. He had been so hot he had forgotten Crowley was coming over, otherwise he might have tried to make a somewhat more proper picture. It was quite embarrassing really.

Long story short, there was just no way around it: His clothes were old, out of fashion, and unsuitable for the current weather. It seemed time, as she was prone to, had passed once again. Besides. The AC attracted customers and he couldn't really have them buy anything now could he.

Crowley was a lot better at going with the times than he was, so he had decided to help with picking out a new set of clothing. Aziraphale looked down at his waistcoat, over 100 years old and as worn as it was loved. 

When he closed the door to his bookshop it fell shut with a bittersweet goodbye. It was time to move on.

\---

Crowley sat in the Bentley and nervously drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he watched Aziraphale exit the shop. He had been nagging the angel over his old fashioned attire for more than a few years now but for him to actually go and change it still somewhat overwhelmed Crowley.

His mind kept coming back to that one afternoon about a week back when he had come to visit the angel and found him lying in an armchair, flushed, sweaty, and with half his clothing strewn around him. 

Crowley was somewhat glad that the angel had been so dazed by the heat. He had spent about five minutes simply staring at him before saying something stupid that might have been words but probably wasn't and miracleing an AC into the bookshop. 

Going clothes shopping with Aziraphale might not have been the best idea. Fabrics were a lot thinner now than they had been 100 years ago and if Aziraphale wore anything even remotely resembling short sleeves Crowley may not be able to handle it.

If that was the kind of thing he cared about Crowley probably would have been insulted that an Angel was so much better at temptation than him without even trying. But then again neither of them were doing their jobs anymore and Aziraphale really could be a bastard sometimes so what if he _ was _ trying?

Better not to think about it too much. They had survived the wrath of heaven and hell. He could survive Aziraphale in modern clothing. Hopefully.

\---

Nicholas Lane had been fitting and selling suits for most of his life. Seeing as he was a good bit over 65 that was not a small amount of time. In contrast to many of his customers he had not made the mistake of being ashamed of his age. He had white hair, a well kept beard and confidence the queen could only beg for. 

In his own humble opinion the only thing keeping any man from looking good were laziness and badly fitted suits. And at least with one of those he could definitely help.

In his long career Nicholas Lane had seen a lot of very strange people and the pair that had just entered his shop definitely belonged in that category. They were undoubtedly close but their clothing could not be more dissimilar. They were complete opposites in almost every way it seemed. 

The first man was tall and lanky. He was dressed completely in black. Expensive looking sunglasses, snake skin shoes, women's jeans, a t-shirt with a deep v-neck, a blazer that fit him well enough, and something that might be called a tie if one had never seen one before. He also had a very peculiar walk and seemed a lot less overheated than he should be, running around in multiple layers of black in this weather.

In contrast to this the man that followed him was a bit shorter, a lot less skinny, and he looked like he had jumped straight out of the early 19th century. It was a good suit that he was wearing but judging from the worn waistcoat it was not only old fashioned but also old. He also looked a lot more bothered by the heat and seemed very glad to be out of the sun. 

The old tailor smiled to himself before putting on his professional face and introducing himself to his clients. This should be interesting for sure.

\---

Aziraphale felt a little out of his depth, wearing his worn and slightly sweat damp, out of fashion clothes in front of a man who dealt in good appearances. But the man, Mister Lane as he had introduced himself, was very professional and hid his bewilderment well. 

It all went relatively smoothly. Crowley had almost immediately sprawled into a chair which was well out of the way and was nibbling on a biscuit. More to do something with his hands than to actually eat. Mister Lane and Aziraphale on the other hand were talking shop.

Aziraphale wanted a simple but good suit. He would of course keep his general colours as he had for all his life, but the style needed updating. He had no idea what size he was but Mister Lane had experience and could make a very accurate guess. 

They spend quite a bit of time looking at different options for shirts, suits, dress shoes, and everything else the shop had to offer. Crowley occasionally gave a comment or two but mostly kept to not eating his biscuit. It was quite fortunate that there were no other visitors and they could take their time. A bit of a minor miracle really.

Finally they had a full outfit and it was time to try it on. It was obvious quite quickly that the angel should probably update his underwear as well but that could wait. 

After the whole suit was on he had to admit he looked quite striking. He hoped Crowley would think the same.

\---

Now that he could safely admit it, there were a lot of reasons why Crowley was quite a terrible demon. One of the bigger ones was that he was awfully prone to Anxiety. He rarely had actual panic attacks or whatever they were called but there was always a low drum of it in the background.

Right now that drum was definitely too loud not to notice. His excitement and curiosity at finally seeing his angel in a modern suit had fully turned into absolute dread over how he was supposed to _ react _ to that. He kind of wanted to turn into a snake. 

The curtain opened to startle the demon out of his thoughts and there he was. His angel. 

"Well I think this is quite a wonderful suit, Mister Lane. Very comfortable. And a lot less warm definitely." The Angel looked at Crowley and held his arms out as the old tailor immediately began making small adjustments and pinning the suit for tailoring. "What do you think?"

What did he think. Crowley was pretty sure he wasn't thinking at all. He was simply looking and oh if he could see nothing else for the rest of eternity he would not mind one bit. Aziraphale looked…

He looked hot was how he looked. Not in the temperature way he had before but more in the hell-would-really-approve-of-Crowley's-current-thoughts way. Not that he had never found the angel attractive before. Aziraphale had always been beautiful and quite handsome but... His usual attire made him look a lot softer than the suit he was wearing now.

This suit was merciless. It made him look powerful. It took the angel's soft edges and sharpened them just a bit. He didn't look intimidating, not in any sense of the word. He was still the same kind and quirky angel. But the slight contrast was still there and it took the demon's breath away.

The suit's perfection was jarring after over a century of more and more signs of wear on Aziraphale's old clothes. And Crowley was overwhelmed. His mind kept switching between how different and how the same his angel looked. 

The colour, the bow tie, and the person were all the same. And in the realm of suits this one was not cut to intimidate or as a display of power. But it was new. With crisp edges and high quality fabric. And modern suits simply had a different look then Victorian ones. 

Aziraphale's smile started to waver a little in uncertainty and Crowley realised that he had spent entirely too much time staring and not saying anything. Thank… someone for the sunglasses. Crowley didn't want to know what Aziraphale would have seen in his eyes. He wasn't sure if the fantasies or the feelings were worse.

The demon made a slightly undignified stammering noise and tried his best not to choke on his own spit. 

"Uh you look good, angel. You do. Real good. Really suits you, the suit. Suits you, yeah." And then he forcefully closed his mouth so he wouldn't say anything else stupid and simply nodded a few times. 

\---

Oh so they were a couple then. The old tailor hadn't been sure. But that reaction and the smiling "Oh thank you, my dear. I thought so too." answered by his client were quite telling. 

He finished pinning the suit and took a step back. It was a fine suit and it seemed it would not only fit the man's body but also his character.

Time to get to work.

**Author's Note:**

> The character of Nicholas Lane is, or is at least inspired by, an actual clerk Janne met when accompanying her uncles to buy suits. I really like him in this story. 
> 
> Again: Tell me what you think. I am a baby writer and need to be nourished with comments so I may grow tall and strong


End file.
